Rummage

Silent, Speedy Moving Day Post: patterns that soothe a jaded mover

For Mirabel

There have been a few news stories in the Australian press lately that I haven't been able to put out of my mind. You know the kind that keep you awake at night to go and check on the small people in the next room. The kind that make you view humanity through a lens of grey.
I'm a worrier, always have been and no doubt always will be, so these stories have been pressing some serious buttons. Having experienced some post-natal anxiety and depression, I am finally beginning to equip myself with a few life skills to channel these feelings in a more constructive way. Softies for Mirabel seemed the perfect antidote to my malaise. Make a doll for an auction to support a foundation that helps kids orphaned or abandoned because of parental drug use and are now in the care of extended family. Yep, that's for me.
And then came Lucretia. Ok, so she may look like a cross between Leunig's Curly the Duck and Richard Scary's Lowly the Worm, (thanks Meg for pointing out the Scary influence). So what if my daughter thinks she is a hobby horse and makes little whickering noises when she sees her? I made her and I like her.
As of this afternoon, she is winging her way to Pip and the rest of the gang at Meet Me at Mikes for the Sofites for Mirabel auction in late July. And without getting too herbal on you, l felt a lightening of the metaphysical load. I'm not sure who is helping who here. Am I helping the Mirabel Foundation or is the Mirabel Foundation helping me? Maybe it's a bit of both.

Have fun Lucretia. Thanks Pip.

Stories from Mirabel

x

Into the Silence

Feeling a little less wordy than usual. Could be the imminent move or the fact that I'm so durn tired. Hope you don't mind but posts might be a bit on the quiet side this week. Feel free to string your own narrative together.
xx

When the Op Shops Gods are in a Benevolent Frame of Mind

Oldie but a Goodie

Let this photo not mislead you. We don't live here anymore and this bookshelf no longer looks like this. With the oldest child's signature in texta on one side, and what looks like an exotic attempt at braille on the other from her sidekick, a facelift is in order.

As much as I have enjoyed living here, it has been a process of marking time. I'm ready to flex the  decorating muscle, flabby from misuse for the first time in a long time. Two weeks to go.

Here's another couple of pics from the archives for those of us in need of a bit of warmth and colour.

xx

Tree Trunks I have Loved

As we get ready for yet another move, I'm starting to take my leave of things I have come to love around us here. These are some of the tree trunks the small person and I say hello to on our daily walks.

Notes on a Rendang

A life is but half-lived until you have cooked and consumed an Indonesian rendang daging curry. I kid you not.

The first time I ate an authentic rendang was at a good friend's house after she had returned from living in Indonesia. I can still recall my toes curling with delight at the first mouthful. Not long after that I borrowed a copy of the source of the recipe - Charmaine Soloman's The Complete Asian Cookbook. What a cookbook - a veritable treatise on Asian cookery. If I had a parallel life to live I would cook a recipe from this book every day until I die - in fact I may still do it.

You'll be pleased to know that after a wee bit of chop and prep, the rendang is simplicity itself to cook. Try to cook it the day before or even better, two days before to get maximum flavour. Serve it with something simple and green along with a great mound of basmati rice. There will be no looking back.

Charmaine's Rendang along with Nan's asides

Ingredients

1.5 kg chuck steak (or any beef requiring a long slow cook)
2 onions - largish & chopped roughly
6 cloves of garlic (at least)
1 tablespoon of chopped fresh ginger (doesn't have to be chopped finely as you're chucking it in the blender)
6 fresh, red chillies, seeded (if you like a medium to hot curry, you could easily make it 10-12 - trust me, I'm a complete nancy when it comes to chillies and 6 is pretty tame even to my mild palette)
2 cups thick coconut milk (I use coconut cream)
1&1/2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon ground turmeric
3 teaspoons chilli powder (I prefer to ditch the powder and ramp up the fresh chillies)
2 teaspoons ground coriander
2 daun salam or 6 curry leaves (I wouldn't know a daun salam if I fell over it so I stick with the curry leaves.)
1 stem of fresh lemon grass or 3 strips  of thinly-peeled lemon rind
1/2 cup tamarind paste
2 teaspoons of sugar

How To

Cut beef into strips about 2.5 by 5 cm. Put onion, garlic, ginger and chillies in blender container with half a cup of coconut cream (I put in more because of my no guts/no glory blender). Cover and blend until smooth. Pour into a saucepan with a very big bottom and use the rest of the coconut cream  to catch the dregs from the blender. Add this to the saucepan with the rest of the ingredients except for the sugar and tamarind. Mix everything up nicely,  pop the meat in and bring it all to the boil.  Reduce the heat to medium, chuck in the tamarind paste and cook uncovered, giving it an occasional stir until a gravy has formed. At this stage the contents of the saucepan will look like a dog's breakfast and you may be having doubts. Pour yourself a velvety glass of merlot and put on some good music - all will come to pass.
Now you have some gravy action turn the heat down a bit, somewhere between low & medium heat and kick back with your wine, remembering to give the pot an occasional stir. Now's also the time to go and bring in the washing or put out the garbage just so that you can have the pleasure of coming back in to your fragrant kitchen. Why not break out the cooking chocolate for an extra little pat on the back?
Keep cooking until the sauce has almost disappeared into the meat giving an occasional vigorous stir. Now, Charmaine says that after about 2&1/2 hours of cooking time the oil should start to separate from the gravy. It may have something to do with my cooktop but I am nowhere near this point at 2&1/2 hours. In fact mine takes probably a good six hours before the pan begins to dry and the oil separates. You be the judge. At this point you should put in the sugar and give it a jolly good stir. Let it fry until the meat becomes a rich dark brown.
Serve.

Incidentally I finally picked up my own copy of the book recently at a garage sale. Like all old books, it fell open to the previous owner's favourite page - the rendang, of course!

PS Scenes from a weekend, including the rendang.

Ramble

You'll be happy to know I've completely fallen off my literary high-horse whilst sewing up another quilt (which is another story), I watched Persuasion again. Still loathed it but I cried anyway. I'm blaming Rupert.

Had a meeting this afternoon with the powers that be at school who have agreed to cough up a bit of money for some new French books..what else?..we're moving soon - HURRAH. 3ish weeks to be less than exact. As usual I am in complete denial about it and have taken to rearranging the bookshelf...I'm going to miss the view here and, (although I never thought I would ever say this), the venetian blinds. If for no other reason than that they provide a strong visual element in photos. Speaking of photos, does anyone have a good recommendation for a book on photography that isn't too techy? - f-stops make me break out in boils.

On books, I've got a few suggestions for you. For the parents amongst us I really like Louise Porter's "Young Children's Behaviour". Whilst it wins no prizes for an imaginative title, it's a goody, particularly when one is dealing with a toddler who wallops any child within her vicinity with whatever tool is at her disposal..Not that I would know anything about this of course, my toddler is perfect.
For a big belly laugh, read 'Aunts Up the Cross' by Robin Dalton. Most pertinent to Sydney-siders, it is based in Kings Cross (where I used to live) but it has universal resonance. Laugh? I nearly cried. Here's the opening paragraph:

"My great-aunt Juliet was knocked over and killed by a bus when she was eighty-five. The bus was travelling very slowly in the right direction and could hardly be missed by anyone except Aunt Juliet, who must have been travelling very fast in the wrong direction."

Hope you are sparking on all cylinders wherever you are.
x

 

Cluck

Here is the quilt being totally upstaged by it's new owner. I am so broody now it's ridiculous!